


A Sinner (A Saint)

by DoreyG



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Fixation For Fun and Profit, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well. Napoleon is like him, to worry would be an <i>insult</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sinner (A Saint)

Napoleon's mouth closes around his cock and he snarls in relief, fingers clenching roughly in the man's hair. Usually he'd be trying to show some restraint, usually he wouldn't even take another to his bed he'd be so worried about breaking them, but Napoleon smirks up at him with sinful eyes and groans around him with that sinful mouth and-

Well. Napoleon is like him, to worry would be an _insult_.

He yanks hard on the man's hair, fucks into his mouth. He isn't gentle, he goes hard enough to _choke_ , but Napoleon doesn't complain - only opens his mouth wider, swallows him down with a glee that is clear to see.

He snarls again, ferociously, coils a little in on himself. Feels the flexing of that sinful mouth around him, the wicked flick of that tongue, with something that can only be described as joyous agony. Napoleon allows himself to be passively fucked for a moment more, and then reaches up - grips his hips tightly, before sliding those clever fingers down between his legs.

Saliva is gathering at the sides of Napoleon's mouth, is starting to slick his cheeks with the force of his thrusts. He'd feel at least a little guiltier about that, but the man just looks so _happy_ about it. Deliriously happy, so deliriously happy... That he doesn't notice what Napoleon's fingers are doing until they're actually there, pressing into him in a way that is both assured and delicate at the same time.

_Ah_.

He comes unexpectedly, as he always seems to with Napoleon, in a shout. Sways for a moment, on his heels, and then draws his cock out of Napoleon's mouth and collapses to the floor in an ungainly heap. The man only smiles at him, eyes dark and ever so smug.

"What?" He chokes, when he can speak again.

"And to think," Napoleon only purrs, watching with an amusement that verges on the disturbingly fond, "when we first met I wanted to _forget_ about this in the morning."

He considers for a second, oddly happy in return.

"...Shut up, Cowboy," he huffs, and reaches for Napoleon's belt as the man purrs out an ever so charmed laugh underneath him.


End file.
